


Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Tithonus Post Ep, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9270185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Post-Ep for Tithonus.  Mulder makes a confession that Scully can't reciprocate and ends up getting (more) hurt  in the process.





	

She tried very hard not to resent his hovering, but it was a difficult task.  She was grateful, truly grateful to him for staying in New York and for driving her back home as soon as she could get herself released.  Though her relationship with Mulder had some ups and downs lately, she had felt, at the time, that allowing him to escort her back to DC was an easier option than calling her mother.  At least she could bid Mulder adieu at her door, or so she thought.

 

Displaying more stubbornness than usual, Mulder insisted on seeing her comfortably ensconced in her apartment, which meant not just bringing her, and her bag, inside, but changing her sheets, getting her videos from Blockbuster, books to read, and groceries.  She let him run all the errands he could think of because at least it got him out from underfoot.  She just wanted to be alone with her pain and not have to pretend to be fine for anyone.  Pretense was exhausting.

 

One of the more frustrating aspects of the nature of her gunshot wound was that no matter which way she turned, sat, lay, or breathed, she always felt a slight burning in her abdomen.  Even if she was making a remarkably speedy recovery, something the doctors attributed to her overall health and fitness, it didn’t mean the healing was easy.  Alone, she would’ve felt free to give in to the need to groan or curse in frustration.  With Mulder there, she had to hide her grimaces.  The smallest squeak and he was by her side asking if she was all right and what he could do.

 

She had been laying in bed for over an hour, propped up slightly by a pillow and lightly dozing.  All that morning, whenever she sat up or stood up, a hot and cold flush would wash over her and she’d sway slightly with the feeling of being faint.  It was an aftereffect of the blood loss, she knew, but the little pauses she took to collect herself had kept Mulder on her like a barnacle since she’d woken up and found him making oatmeal in her kitchen.  She finally escaped him by feigning the need for a nap, which turned out to be the truth.

 

She heard the shuffle of Mulder’s feet outside her bedroom door, but she didn’t open her eyes.  The door, which she kept ajar at his insistence, eked open and she felt his presence in her room.  He whispered her name and she sighed, but kept her eyes closed.

 

“Yes?” she answered.

 

“Just wondering what kind of soup you want for lunch.”

 

“Go away, Mulder.”

 

“The doctor said you-”

 

“I don’t care what the doctor said,” she snapped and opened her eyes, annoyed and feeling smothered.  “Why won’t you just go home?”

 

“I took the hippocratic oath before we left New York and it compels me to stay.”

 

“Well, I release you of your self-imposed indentured servitude.”

 

“I can’t do that, Scully.”

 

She sighed in exasperation and pushed herself up, gritting her teeth against the flare of throbbing pain it caused in her abdomen.  The icy hot chill ran up her spine and a sheen of sweat instantly bloomed across her chest, making her flannel shirt stick to her skin slightly.  She sucked in a breath as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and Mulder put his hands on her knees as though she might fall.  She flung his hands away from her and he stumbled back with a look of shock on his face.

 

“Go _home_ ,” she growled.

 

“Scully, you need-”

 

“What I _need_ is for you to leave me alone.”  Her stomach began to burn with nausea and she swallowed hard to keep it down.  “You’re not responsible for what happened, so just quit it with the guilt complex and go home.  I’ll be fine.  What I don’t need is this...this hovering and smothering and...and whatever it is that you’re doing here.  I can take care of myself.”

 

Mulder blinked a few times and pursed his lips.  She blew out a shaky breath and bent her head a little.  Her muscles ached terribly and she had to slap a hand over her mouth as she felt the burn of bile rising from her gut to her throat.  

 

With lightning reflexes, Mulder grabbed the wicker trash can that was at the side of her bed and held it up under her face.  It took a few moments, but she finally shook her head and pushed his arm away.  Her lips were wet from the pressure of her hand and she wiped them with her sleeve.  Her shoulders tensed when Mulder tried to put a hand on her back.

 

“Go,” she whispered.

 

“This isn’t about guilt,” he said.

 

“I don’t care what it’s about.  I don’t want you here.”

 

“I won’t think less of you for needing-”

 

“Dammit, Mulder, what I _need_ is for you to get the hell out!” she exploded.  “Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

 

Her outburst caused another flash of heat to rush through her, this time from her toes to her scalp.  Prickles of sweat dotted her hairline and the skin under her eyes and above her lip and the back of her neck.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was making herself worse, but if only Mulder would just _leave_ , she could deal with it.  It was her pain to deal with, and hers alone.

 

“You’re in pain,” Mulder said.

 

“Well thank you, Dr. Mulder, for stating the obvious.  It’s called getting shot.  It’s also called recovery, something I’m perfectly capable of achieving on my own.”

 

“Jesus, Scully, is that what this is about?”  He tried to put a hand on her shoulder again, but she shrugged him off.  She was too hot and it hurt too much for him to touch her.  He backed away from her and clenched his fists at his sides.  His posture was rigid.

 

“Go,” she said.

 

“No.”

 

“Go!”

 

“You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with,” he shouted at her.  “It’s not fair, but you don’t!  When you’re in pain, I’m in pain.  I just want to help.  Dammit, Scully, I just want to make you soup, because there’s nothing else I can do!”

 

She gaped at him.  He paced away from her and threw up his hands in the annoyed, dismissive manner he had a habit of doing when she refuted one of his outlandish theories.

 

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said.  “It shouldn’t come as such a shock, and it’s not the point.”

 

“Now you want to tell me how I should feel?”

 

This time is was Mulder that gaped.  He stared at her for a long while and then his mouth snapped shut and his jaw clenched.  He turned, but paused in her doorway.  They were both still and silent for a long stretch of time.  Without looking at her, he broke that silence with a hushed and strained voice.

 

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, and then he lowered his head and chuckled.  “I guess I’ll see you when you’re cleared for desk duty.”

 

After he walked away, she waited until she heard the front door open and close before she slid off the bed and stood on shaky legs.  The nerve of him for dropping a bomb on her like that at a time when she couldn’t fight back.  She was angry.  So angry.

 

If he had told her he loved her, she could handle that.  She could roll her eyes and forgive him for being his typical jackass self.  But, what did he know about being _in_ love with someone?  How could he say that to her?  It was cruel and it was unfair.  If it was a fight he was looking for, she was too weak to argue.  Honestly, how dare he?

 

She slowly made her way to the kitchen, taking light, easy steps.  A hand on the wall or the furniture helped.  On the counter was six different kinds of canned soup, two bowls, and two spoons.  A can opener sat on top of the can of chicken noodle.  She knocked it off and it landed in the sink with a clatter.  There was a slip of paper behind the cans, a list of some sort in Mulder’s handwriting.  She picked it up.

 

_Softer pillow for the couch_

_That removable handle thing for the shower from that infomercial_

_Those girly sponges with the soap inside - the mall body shop?_

_Water bottles_

_More gauze and tape?_

_Relaxation CD (Enya?)_

_Decaf coffee_

_Anti-itch stuff_

 

“God dammit,” she muttered, crumpling the list in her hand and hurling it across the counter.

 

With slow, calculated steps, she made her way to the living room and eased herself down onto the couch.  There was a stack of Blockbuster videos on her coffee table and she studied the eclectic choices from afar.  L.A. Confidential.  Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.  Die Hard.  Invasion of the Body Snatchers.  Dr. No.  The Neverending Story.  The Swiss Family Robinson.

 

Her brow furrowed with puzzlement.  There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the choices Mulder made.  When it dawned on her, she closed her eyes and bit her lip.  Nothing in that group was liable to make her laugh or cry.  

 

So what?  So what if he did all these thoughtful things for the first time in six years.  Okay, that wasn’t true, he’d done a lot of thoughtful things for her in six years, but none of it meant he was in love with her.  In love meant...in love meant...she didn’t know what in love meant.  Certainly, that couldn’t be true.  It might have been awhile, but she knew what being in love was like.

 

She thought back on her past and tried to recall the way she had felt about Jack and Daniel.  Daniel had captivated her and thrilled her with his want for her; it was the first time she’d ever experienced being pursued so passionately.  He was the first man to call her beautiful and to make her feel like her intelligence was something to be desired.  She’d been in awe of his confidence and his brilliance.  She did love him, but she also had to admit to herself that he also left her feeling unnerved most of the time.  He could be belittling and controlling and when they disagreed, she often felt reduced to that of a teenager with a hopeless schoolgirl crush.  Quite often, it seemed like he was trying to convince her that she should consider herself lucky to have caught his eye.  

 

The enthrallment with Daniel dissipated and it soon became clear she was just the other woman.  He was living a double life and she was a burden to him.  When she’d tried to walk away, he’d told her he would leave his wife and child for her.  That had caught her off guard and she did give the notion serious consideration.  She tried to see her future as his wife and all she could envision was heartache.

 

When Jack entered her life, she was initially reticent about her feelings for him.  He was yet another older and wiser teacher figure that she grew enamored of.  She admired his passion and dedication to justice.  When he spoke about making the world safer and making a difference, it moved her, inspired her, and she felt a great connection with him.  His lofty, selfless ideals made him irresistibly attractive to her and in the end, she did the pursuing.

 

Because the affair with Daniel had left her feeling young and naive, she felt like an adult for the first time when she was with Jack.  She had far more control in that relationship than with Daniel.  It didn’t take long for her to realize the reason she played a dominant role was because the only thing Jack was truly passionate about was his work, not her.  He wasn’t giving her independence, he just never really cared enough about her to require her presence.  When she finally left, she wasn’t quite sure he really noticed.

 

Those were the two men in her life that she’d been the closest to being in love with, but she couldn’t conjure up the feelings she’d had past mere infatuation.  The difficulties in the end overshadowed whatever else had been there.

 

She had no idea how to define her feelings for Mulder.  Yes, she did love him.  They were too close and had been through too much together for her not to feel some sort of love for him.  He certainly had a combination of the qualities Jack and Daniel had that had initially enchanted her, but that she wasn’t so foolish to fall for again.  He was brilliant and passionate and confident and dedicated.  But, he was also narrow-minded, moody, unpredictable, and needy.

 

The nature of their relationship was not what she wanted to be thinking about with an aching gut and lethargic body.  She should be focusing on putting mind over matter and convincing herself that the pain was a necessary, temporary evil that she could work through.  Angry, she pushed herself up from the couch, got caught up in the blanket that fell at her feet in her rage, and hit the floor, narrowly missing the coffee table as she went down.

 

For just a moment, there was no discomfort, only the shock of the fall, and then a sharp, blinding pain exploded from her abdomen and radiated outward.  She moaned in agony, couldn’t stop herself from clutching at her stomach as though the press of her hands could stop it, but it made it worse.  She felt wet and didn’t know if it was from sweat or blood, terrified she’d ripped her stitches, but unable to lift her head to check.

 

Her arm was about the only thing she could lift and her fingers fumbled for purchase on the coffee table.  By some miracle, her cell phone was the first thing in reach and she clutched it gratefully and hit speed dial number one.  It rang for an unusually long amount of time before Mulder picked up.  The tone in his voice was flat when he said his name.  She swallowed the pain and tried not to sound as breathless as she felt.

 

“Come back,” she said.

 

“What do you need?” he asked.

 

She licked her lips and breathed through her nose.  “I need you to please come back.”

 

“Why?”

 

“If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”  Obviously it was a lie, she wasn’t going anywhere.  She couldn’t even get off the floor, but she knew if she threatened to do something dangerous and stupid, he would stop her at all costs.

 

“I’ll be right there.”

 

The click of disconnection was loud in her ear.  She figured she had twenty to thirty minutes, tops, to try not to look so helpless.  Tears burned at her eyes and slid hotly down her temples and she angrily wiped them away, but they kept up a steady stream.  It was ridiculous.  She didn’t even cry when she’d been shot, yet there she was, lying on her floor feeling sorry for herself and crying.  She needed to pull herself together before Mulder got there to preserve at least some of her dignity.

 

The sound of locks turning startled her and she heard her front door swing open while Mulder softly called her name.  She wiped at her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the pitiful sniffle that drew him to her.

 

“Scully!”

 

“I’m fine,” she said, automatically.

 

He crouched beside her and shoved the coffee table out of the way.  “You are not fine.  What happened?”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“You called me.”

 

“I know, but you left at least half an hour ago.”

 

He shrugged.  “I was sitting in my car.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Thinking.”

 

“I tripped,” she whispered, and her chin wobbled as a fresh wave of emotion came over her.

 

He slid his hand under her neck and lifted her head gently to slip one of her throw pillows underneath and then wiped her temples with the side of his hand after he laid her down.  “Should I call an ambulance?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, but then her eyes flicked down to her abdomen.  “I don’t know if I ripped a stitch.”

 

“Do you want me to check?”

 

“Could you?”

 

“Okay.”  He started to unbutton her flannel shirt at the bottom, working his way up just enough to expose her wound.  

 

She watched his face until she felt his fingers lightly trace the square area of surgical tape holding down the gauze covering her wound.  She didn’t see any blood, which was a good sign.  He was going to need to pull the tape off though so they could determine if there was any damage.  She closed her eyes.

 

“Just...peel from the top down,” she said.

 

“Okay.”  

 

He put one hand on her ribs, above her wound and just below her breast.  She wasn’t sure if he was trying to steady himself or her.  She bit her lip when he started to peel the tape back.  It didn’t hurt much more than she already was hurting, but it did slightly elevate the aggravation.

 

“Looks fine,” he said.  “I think.”

 

She opened her eyes inspected the site.  The stitches were intact and aside from the same normal redness and swelling, it looked okay.  She nodded in agreement and closed her eyes again.

 

“Do I need to get a new bandage?” he asked.

 

“In the bathroom.”

 

He left her and then returned with the package of gauze, tape, and scissors that were given to her at the hospital.  He’d also pulled out a pair of latex gloves from the box she’d put out with the supplies.  They were sized for her hands and would never fit him.

 

“Let me,” she said, taking the gloves from him as he knelt beside her.  He gave them up wordlessly and after she snapped them on, gave her the package of gauze.  She plucked out one of the sheets and folded it into a small square.  “Could you cut the tape?” she asked.

 

She held the gauze lightly over her wound as Mulder cut strips of tape and gently affixed them to her skin.  She peeled the gloves off when he was done and he buttoned her shirt back down before he took the supplies back to the bathroom.  He crouched down next to her again when he came back and looked her over.

 

“Would you like to get off the floor?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What do you suggest?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

He rubbed his hand across his chin a few times and then got down on his hands and knees.  She watched him as he crawled over her at an angle, one hand between her hip and the couch and the other up high by her opposite shoulder.  He leaned down so their noses were almost touching and her eyes widened a bit in surprise.  

 

“Can you put her arms around me?” he asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

He nodded and then angled his head to the side and lowered himself down even further to his elbow.  She wrapped both her arms around his neck and he slid his arm under her thighs.

 

“I’m gonna lift you up,” he said.  “Just stay relaxed, but keep your arms locked.”

 

She nodded against his cheek and he slowly tilted his upper body so that hers rose up with his.  When she was nearly sitting up, he wrapped his arm around her back and paused.  She nodded against his cheek again to let him know she was alright, and then he rearranged himself to get up on his knees and lift her up into his arms.

 

“Okay?” he asked once he was completely on his feet.

 

“I’m okay.”  Her face was pressed against his neck where her arms were locked tight.  Her upper body was erect and slightly angled into him, but it was comfortable and less painful than having been sprawled out on the floor.

 

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

 

“Back to bed.”

 

He walked slowly to her bedroom, careful not to jostle her and overly cautious about moving her through the narrow hall and doorway so they wouldn’t accidentally bump a wall.  He eased her onto the bed and lowered her in much the same way he’d lifted her, slowly and in stages, moving with her so that he was doing all the work.  Once he let go of her, he stood back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

 

“I can call your mother,” he said.  “Someone should be here in case…”

 

She gave him a slight nod.  “You’re probably right.”

 

“I’ll stay until she gets here.  I’ll just...I’ll be in the other room.”

 

“Mulder.”

 

“What?”

 

“I need you to know that I don’t think I’m in the same place that you are.”

 

He dropped his head and looked uncomfortable.  “Just forget about it, Scully.  I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 

“I don’t want to forget about it.  I want to know how you’re sure that what you feel is really what you think it is.”

 

“You think I wouldn’t know?”

 

“I think it could be mistaken.  I think I’ve been mistaken in the past and I...I’m not sure I would know what it felt like.  So, I’m asking because I just don’t know.  I just...don’t know.”

 

“Oh.”  He looked a little surprised at that and moved one of his hands out of his pockets to rub the back of his head.  “You’re the first thing I think about in the morning.  As I’m getting ready for work I’m usually wondering what kind of mood you’ll be in, if I should get you coffee, what you’ll be wearing, if you’ll have a different haircut from the day before, if you’ll have finally forgotten to cover the mole above your lip, stupid things like that.  If I get a new case before I see you, I wonder what you’ll think before I try to determine what I think.  When I go home at night, I think of excuses to call you because I miss your voice even though we only said goodbye an hour before.  When the call came through that an agent had been shot, and that it was you, I don’t even remember driving to New York, I only remember needing to be there and needing you to be okay.  Maybe I am mistaking it for something else, but it feels real to me.”

 

All the things he said had definitely not existed in her past relationships.  She was surprised by most of it, because she was never made to feel like a priority to him, and she didn’t mean that negatively.  He’d hidden his feelings very well, but she would admit that it felt genuine.

 

“There are other thoughts too,” he said.  “Ones I can’t say because they’d just embarrass us both and would probably get me fired.”

 

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks and she lowered her eyes a bit.  Of course attraction played an important part of being in love, and even with all Mulder’s flirtatious banter, it never crossed her mind that he might actually find her attractive.  Not in the way that someone in love would feel.

 

“Say something, Scully, you’re making me nervous.”

 

“I had no idea.”

 

“None?”

 

“Not even a little.”

 

“Either I’m the world’s biggest idiot or you need to quit your day job.  And I think we both know you’re the best thing the FBI has to offer.”

 

“You know I’m not very good at needing people.”

 

“You don’t say?”  He smiled at her and she gave him a small smile in return.

 

“I can’t really claim to have the same perspective.  It’s different for me.  I think I need time to examine my own thoughts before I can come to a conclusion.”

 

“That’s what you do best.”

 

She reached her hand out to him and he took a step forward, but didn’t slip his fingers into hers.  He took her wrist instead and moved her hand back down to the bed.  He brushed his thumb along hers once and then stepped back again.

 

“I’ll go call your mom,” he said.

 

“Before you do that, would you think i was taking advantage of you if I asked you to make me some soup?”

 

“Scully, you know you could take advantage of me six ways from Sunday any time, any place.”  He grinned and it earned him an eye roll.  “Yes, I’ll make you soup.  Which one do you want?”

 

“Chicken and rice?”

 

“Coming right up.”

 

She watched him leave with a bit of sadness.  She wanted to be in the same place Mulder was and feel those things he felt.  When she’d said to him that she was bad at needing people, what she really meant was that she wasn’t sure if she was capable of sharing herself with someone.  She was too damn independent for her own good.  She didn’t know what it was going to take, but she wanted to love him the way that he loved her.  It didn’t sound like much, but letting him make her soup was a start.

 

The End

  
  



End file.
